Resident Evil: Crisis
by Scott-A-B
Summary: Immediately after the events in Spain, Leon discovers a facility conducting experiments with the Sample of Las Plagas. Unable to contact anyone for help because of an unknown informant, Leon decides to uncover the truth of what's going on on his own.
1. Chapter 1

Leon S. Kennedy

Special agent.

Rescuer of the President's daughter.

The absolute best in his class.

And yet apparently not good enough for a ride home in the President's private jet.

Leon watched from the ground as Ashley Graham walked up the portable staircase to board her father's plane. She turned to him when she reached the top, giving him what looked like an apologetic smile, he couldn't really tell from far away, and waved. Leon pasted a grin on his face and waved back, still slightly taken by surprise by the fact that he would be taking a commercial flight home. Ashley stepped through the door, which closed behind her and the stairway began to move away. Leon turned and began walking back towards the small airport. Looking down at the ticket that one of the President's bodyguards had handed to him upon arrival, Leon couldn't help but laugh humorlessly. He had dragged that girl all over an enemy infested terrain, saved her life countless times, which often resulted in personal injury, and even removed a parasite that threatened to take over her mind, and he wasn't even worth a first class seat. Leon slipped the ticket into his inner jacket pocket. Seeing the empty gun holster beneath his coat brought a new wave of annoyance. Since he was flying commercial and no one had bothered getting him a permit for bringing his 9mm onto the actual plane, he'd had to put the gun in his case to be stored in the plane's luggage compartment, along with the veritable arsenal of other weapons he'd picked up while on the rescue mission.

Leon walked through the doors of the airport and looked down at his ticket again. Gate sixteen at 9:30pm. Looking down at his watch, Leon sighed. It was only 6:42. Given the past couple of days, Spain was the last place he wanted to be right now. It was like Raccoon City all over again, and he knew what to expect. Nightmares. He was sure they'd haunt him again, just like last time. They'd go away, eventually, but being in the country where it all took place made the horror seem a lot closer, a lot more real. Leon shook his head. He knew he probably wouldn't have been able to cope with the things he'd seen here if he hadn't been in Raccoon City when the outbreak had occurred. Looking up and pulling away from his thoughts, Leon realized that he was already at Gate sixteen. Only a couple of people occupied the seats there, making it even more painfully obvious how long he had to wait. Leon walked to the closest chair and sat down. He stretched out and rested his feet on the chair in front of him. A couple of hours of sleep would be nice, after all, it had been an exhausting trip.

Leon woke to the sound of people arguing, the angry tones of their conversation pulling him back to consciousness. Glancing down at his watch, Leon felt his stomach clench. It was 10:12 pm, almost forty-five minutes after his plane had been scheduled to leave. Standing quickly, he looked around. Everyone that he'd seen waiting at the gate were still here, and he hadn't been woken up by a loudspeaker to announce boarding. Everyone seemed to be gathered around the boarding desk, speaking in angry and frustrated voices to the attendant on duty there. Leon looked up at the chart displaying the plane status. His eyes moved quickly over the chart until he found his flight. 9:30. Madrid-Washington D.C. Delayed.

"Story of my life," Leon muttered under his breath for what felt like the hundredth time in the past forty-eight hours.

"You're tellin' me, buddy," said a balding man sitting next to Leon, whose stomach was causing the sweat stained dress-shirt he was wearing to stretch slightly at the buttons, "Do you have any idea how unwelcome this country can make you feel?"

"I couldn't possibly imagine," said Leon, praying that he sounded uninterested enough that the man wouldn't continue.

"I was here for business myself," the man continued, causing Leon to look upward with annoyance. "Got to the hotel and they wouldn't even bring my bags up to the room, can you believe that?"

"Shocking," said Leon, without really caring how bored he sounded. "Listen, I need to go find out what's happening with this flight."

The man opened his mouth to talk again but Leon had already gotten up and walked quickly over to the gate attendant's desk. The attendant looked up from the computer screen she'd been eyeing.

"May I help you, sir?" she asked, a Spanish accent barely audible in her voice.

"Yeah," Leon answered, "I was wondering how long the flight was going to be delayed for."

"Unfortunately the flight was delayed indefinitely, sir, there were mechanical problems with the plane."

"I see, thank you for your time, miss."

Leon turned away from the desk, the clenching feeling in his stomach getting worse. Even though he knew that any immediate threat of Las Plagas had been destroyed with Saddler, he still had an uneasy feeling, as if something was wrong. Leon began walking towards the ticket counters, hoping that he could find another way home. As he walked, he looked around at the people in the airport. Normal people, all of them, and yet he'd seen what they could become. He shook his head to rid his mind of the most recent horrors he'd seen. Funny, killing these things was almost starting to feel like a routine.

Leon reached the ticket counters a few minutes later. Pleasantly surprised that there was no lineup, he headed straight for he nearest available sales counter.

"Hello," said the attendant.

"Hi," said Leon, "Listen, my flight was just delayed indefinitely, but I need to get back to the States today. Is there anything you can do for me?"

The attendant asked him for his name and passport. Leon gave them. The man typed something into the computer in front of him and pulled up what Leon assumed was the information on his flight.

"It says here that you were scheduled to be on a flight directly to Washington, correct?"

"Yes."

The man hit a few more keys.

"Well, there weren't very many flights out to the States today, and none that have connecting flights to Washington."

Leon groaned.

"Damn it…..Well is there anything at all leaving for the U.S. today?"

The man looked at him, seeming a bit offended that Leon wanted to get out of the country so quickly.

'If you only knew, pal,' Leon thought.

"There were three flights scheduled to depart for America today, and unfortunately, Mr. Kennedy," said the attendant, glancing at Leon's name on the screen, "Yours was the last of them."

"Wait, what do you mean 'was'? The gate attendant told me the flight was only delayed."

"Well according to what it says here, the flight has been cancelled due to situations outside the airline's control."

'Of course it was,' thought Leon.

Keeping himself composed, Leon scratched the side of his head in frustration. This was exactly the kind of luck that had landed him in the Raccoon City outbreak on his first day as a cop. He breathed deeply before looking up at the attendant again.

"When does the next flight to Washington leave?"

The attendant looked down at his computer screen and clicked the mouse a few times.

"Not for another three days, sir."

Three days. The clenching feeling was back in Leon's stomach again, It was starting to feel like someone was actually working against his leaving the country.

"What about my luggage?"

"Well, sir, we can either keep it for you until you decide on a flight, or you may take it with you."

Somehow, Leon didn't feel comfortable leaving a case stocked with weapons and ammunition sitting in an airport for three days.

"I'll take it with me, thanks."

Leon walked to the side of the counter to wait for his case. His mind began to wander again, re-creating the scenes from his latest encounter with things that shouldn't exist. Again, Leon put a hand to the side of his head, trying to get rid of the images. Strangely enough, the memories weren't making him uncomfortable.

'Wow', he thought, 'Am I really this out of touch with reality?'

It was a good thing, in a way. At least this meant that he might not have the nightmares again. But it was also kind of disconcerting, how warped his view of reality had become. True, a lot of people knew about the viral outbreaks and their effects, but few, very few, had ever survived seeing those effects up close. And now there was this, a completely new form of monster. Las Plagas had never been witnessed before, not to Leon's knowledge at least. He sighed. His thoughts drifted to Ada, and that was when he started feeling discomfort. That sample. It had been almost two days since she'd gotten away with it, and if she really was bringing it to Wesker…

"Your bag, sir," said the a voice next to Leon.

Leon turned to the man carrying his case.

"Thanks," he said, taking the case from him. The simple action somehow made it feel like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"You're very welcome, sir," the man replied, "It is my job to inform you that those that have been inconvenienced by this cancelled flight are to be put up in the nearest hotel by the airline."

Leon raised his eyebrows. Finally a bit of luck.

"Thanks for telling me. Where's the hotel?"

"A shuttle bus will be leaving the airport in about ten minutes from the main entrance, sir."

Leon thanked the man again and headed towards the front doors of the airport. He arrived at the front entrance and was greeted by about a hundred people gathered around three busses. Leon stepped into line and then onto a bus. He somehow found a seat in the back and sat down wearily.

"Been a rough trip has it?" said a female voice beside him.

Leon looked around at the source. She was a woman about his age, maybe a bit older, attractive, with short brown hair and glasses. She was dressed professionally, as if she was there on business.

"You could say that," said Leon.

The woman smiled.

"Alright, I won't pry. But I can't believe we have to wait three days to catch a plane, it's ridiculous."

"Tell me about it," Leon replied, "But with the days I've been having, I can almost say that I'm not surprised."

The woman laughed.

"I'm Dana Altridge, by the way," she said, offering her hand.

"Leon Kennedy," responded Leon, taking it.

For a split second, Dana's eyes widened, her mouth seemed to twitch downward. But then it was gone and she was smiling fully again. Leon pretended not to notice and kept talking to her about their business in Spain, making things up as he went. But behind the lies he was making up about being on business, his mind was racing. That expression, it had almost looked like recognition. Did this woman know him somehow? And also, Leon could have sworn he'd seen something else on her face when he said his name. It had almost looked like…fear.

They arrived at the hotel a few minutes later. The bus pulled up to the curb and stopped.

"Well, Mr. Kennedy, it's been nice talking to you."

"It's Leon. And you too, Miss Altridge."

The smile she gave seemed a little too forced, a little too happy. She turned and walked off towards the entrance to the hotel. Leon bent a grasped the handle of his case.

"Man this thing's heavy," he said to himself.

Walking into the air conditioned lobby of the hotel was a relief, but it was quickly followed by dismay when Leon looked toward the check in counter. Apparently the airline hadn't spread the passengers out among a few different hotels, they'd just sent everyone here.

'Perfect,' thought Leon, 'And that almost definitely means…."

As if on cue, a man dressed in a suit walked out from behind the check in desk with a megaphone.

"I am sorry everyone, but all of our rooms are now occupied. I would advise you all to go to the hotel just a few minutes up the street. Again, my apologies."

The lobby erupted into complaints and yelling. Leon sat down in one of the chairs lining the walls. This was just great. Stranded and now he didn't even have a place to stay. He looked around at the people still in the lobby. Some were leaving with angry looks on their faces. Others were still shouting at the hotel manager. He saw Dana having what looked like a quiet argument on her phone. Leon put his face in his hands for what felt like seconds but must have been longer because he was suddenly jerked back to consciousness by someone tapping his shoulder. He looked up to see Dana standing over him, a smile on her face.

"Couldn't get a room, huh?" she asked, the smile still in place, the same as it had been before. Happy. Forced.

"Yeah, bad trip, cancelled flight, and now nowhere to stay, I guess bad things really do come in threes," said Leon. 'Or in my case, hundreds,' he thought to himself.

"It would appear so. Well, I'm sure that I could find some space in my room, if you can't find anywhere else, that is."

Leon couldn't stop staring at that smile on her face.

"You got a room? But you got here the same time I did."

"I have my ways."

Still with that damn smile.

"I can't, I'd feel like I were intruding," said Leon, hoping that she'd take the hint. There was definitely something off about this woman, and the last thing Leon felt like doing was falling asleep within a few meters of her. She knew who he was, he was sure of it, and it didn't feel like she was making this offer out of the goodness of her heart.

"Oh, it's no trouble, I'm sure there's a couch in the room somewhere. And you don't have to worry about me," she said, with a wink that made Leon sick to his stomach, "I won't bite."

'It's not biting I'm worried about,' thought Leon. Still, maybe there was something that was worth investigating here. This woman clearly wanted him to spend the night, and he had a feeling it didn't have anything to do with attraction, no matter how many times she smiled and winked.

"Well alright," said Leon, "It's a lot better than sleeping in the airport."

Dana nodded in agreement and turned towards the nearest staircase. As Leon stood to follow her, he slipped his 9mm out of his case and quickly put it into the holster under his coat. He didn't want to take any unnecessary risks, and it was definitely strange that someone he'd met less than an hour ago would allow him to stay in her room, much less _want _him too.

Making sure that the gun was secure, Leon took a deep breath and followed Dana up the stairs.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Leon lay awake on the couch in Dana's room. By the look of things, she had somehow gotten her hands on one of the biggest suites in the hotel. It had a bedroom, living area, bathroom, and even a small kitchen. Leon could hear Dana behind the closed door of the bedroom. It sounded like she was on her phone again, though with whom she was speaking at this time of night Leon had no idea. Her voice was rising every so often, giving the impression that she was having an argument. Leon remembered seeing her on the phone in the lobby. She had looked as though she had been arguing with someone then as well. Leon strained his ears, trying to catch a phrase that might give him some sort of information on who Dana was, but he could hear no clear words through the closed door. Sighing, Leon lay back so that he was staring at the ceiling.

"How do you know me?"

He asked the question out loud, as if expecting an answer from the darkness. When none came to him, he moved on to another disturbing thought. He knew that he hadn't been lured to this room without a reason. What that reason was, he did not know, but he knew that it wasn't something that he would enjoy. As ideas as to why he was there chased each other through his mind, Leon found himself growing increasingly tired. His thoughts seemed to be melting together, turning into dreams, becoming more and more distant….

He was in the village again, running, the yells of his pursuers close behind him. No matter where he turned there was no escape, only more of them, their faces twisted as they screamed for his death, simple farming tools held high as they became weapons. He was cornered. Leon turned around, gun raised, ready for his last stand. They were getting nearer, they were almost on top of him now. Another scream, something grazed his cheek, he saw an axe rise into the air and descend towards him…

He was back in the hotel room, sitting straight up on the couch on which he had fallen asleep. He was breathing heavily, and his subconscious mind had caused him to grab the 9mm off the table next to his head, and it was now aiming at a solid wall.

"Damn", he muttered to himself, looking around quickly for signs of anything out of the ordinary that might have happened while he'd been asleep. There were none.

Still berating himself for letting his guard down, Leon stood up and headed to the kitchen for a glass of water. He reached the sink and looked down, realizing that he still had a very tight hold on the gun. Shaking his head slightly, he placed it on the counter beside him and filled a glass from the cupboard with water. Lifting the cup to his lips, Leon glanced out the window above the kitchen sink. It overlooked the road the bus had taken them down to get here, and the small houses and apartments beyond it. Leon looked out over the dull view for a while, wondering if he'd be able to stay awake for much longer. As he raised the cup to take another sip of water, his eyes flew down to the corner of the window. He'd seen movement. For a second, before his eyes could adjust, he thought that it might have been a bird of some sort, or that maybe he had imagined it. Then he realized that what he had seen hadn't been outside. Leon pretended not to notice Dana slipping into the kitchen as he took another deep drink of water, but his eyes never left her reflection in the window. She was holding something as if it were a knife, but he couldn't quite make out what it was. Leon turned on the water as if to fill his glass again. Dana took the bait. She rushed forward quickly, thrusting the object in her hand straight at the side of Leon's neck. Sidestepping neatly, Leon dodged the stab and grabbed his gun off the counter. Then in one swift movement, he turned, pinned the arm holding the weapon against the counter, and placed the barrel of the 9mm against Dana's temple. The shock on her face was replaced almost immediately by fear.

"You can't shoot me," she said with a sneer, but her voice trembled slightly, "Someone would hear the gun go off, you'd be thrown in jail."

"Self defense isn't murder," said Leon calmly.

The sneer vanished from Dana's face, allowing fear to take complete control of her features.

"What do you want?" she asked shakily.

"Just answers."

Dana swallowed. She looked as though she was struggling with something.

"I can't tell you anything."

Leon surveyed her for a while, trying to decide the best way to get her to tell him what was going on. She didn't look like someone who was used to being cornered. His eyes fell to her hand, which still held the object she'd tried to stab him with. His throat tightened when he realized what it was.

"Drop it."

He said it quietly, but there was no mistaking the deadly tone in his voice. Dana hesitated for a second and then opened her hand, which was still pinned to the counter. The syringe rolled out onto the laminated surface. Leon let go of her wrist, but kept the 9mm pointing between her eyes.

"Back away," he said in the same voice.

Dana backed slowly toward the other side of the small kitchen. Keeping his gun on her, Leon reached out at picked up the syringe. Grasping it firmly so he didn't drop it, he held it up to eye level. It glowed blue in the moonlight.

"T-Virus."

He felt as though he were speaking more to himself than her. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it hadn't been this. His mind was racing, trying to figure out why this had been the way that Dana had to decided to dispose of him. But he still didn't know why she wanted him out of the way in the first place. He looked up at her, standing against the wall across from him. The mere fact that she even had this syringe of the virus made it clear to him that she was not working alone. Remembering the argument that he had heard her having earlier made him realize that there was a possibility that Dana had been against luring him here in the first place. Thinking about how he'd seen her on her phone in the hotel lobby reinforced his suspicion. But if she was working for someone, who was it? Who would actually be willing to cause another outbreak? He needed to know.

Leon nodded towards the small table in the corner of the kitchen.

"Sit down."

Dana looked surprised, then moved slowly towards the table and sat in one of the straight backed chairs. Leon crossed the kitchen and flicked on the light. Holstering his gun, he turned and sat down across from Dana, who now looked more surprised than ever.

"Why did you…"

"Why are you carrying a T-Virus sample?" he asked her, keeping his eyes fixed on her face.

Her eyes widened.

"I can't…"

"I know you're not supposed to tell me. Now I'll ask you again. Why?"

"Please, I can't, they'll…they'll…"

Her voice trembled and broke as she tried to finish the sentence that she seemed too scared to say out loud. Tears began to slide silently down her face. She stopped trying to speak, but Leon knew what she was thinking.

"You haven't been working for these people for very long have you?" Leon asked her.

She shook her head.

"W-Why do you ask?" she choked.

Leon closed his eyes and rubbed the side of his head wearily before answering. Opening his eyes again, he looked up at her.

"Because if you had, you'd know that the second you failed to kill, or in this case infect, me, you became a liability to them."

He said it without looking away from her, making sure that she knew that he was completely serious. He saw comprehension beginning to dawn on her face. He continued.

"Meaning that even if you don't tell me anything, they will kill you."

Dana began to rock back and forth on her chair, her eyes unfocused, tears flowing even more freely down her cheeks. Her terrified silence was enough to let Leon know that he had gotten through to her. She opened her mouth twice, but was only able to produce a sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a sob.

"I can help you," said Leon, "But I'm going to need something to go on."

Dana continued to rock on her chair, staring at him as she did so. After nearly a minute of this, she reached up and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Tears still gathered in the corners of her eyes, but they did not fall. When she spoke, her voice was shaky, but determinedly calm.

"They gave me the virus before I left the states," she said, in little more than a whisper, "They told me that I was too come here and release the virus, cause an outbreak."

"Who?" asked Leon.

"The man who I reported to was named William Korell, but I know he wasn't the one in charge of the operation. All I know about Korell's boss is that he was once a major stockholder in Umbrella."

Leon leaned back and stared at the ceiling. "Of course he was."

He'd been expecting it, but hearing that he was once again up against the famous pharmaceutical company was still a blow. How could a company that had gone completely bankrupt and lost everything still be so powerful?

Still staring at the ceiling, Leon asked her, "Why did he want you to cause an outbreak?"

"I-I'm not really sure. He never told me directly, but I overheard him talking to another one of the higher ups. Something about a distraction."

Leon's head snapped back down to look at her so fast that it hurt.

"A distraction? You mean there's going to be another attempt to cause an outbreak somewhere else?"

"I don't know for sure, I'm just telling you what I heard. All they told me to do was book a seat on the flight, the one we both missed, and to release the virus by injecting one of the other people that were stranded when the flight was cancelled."

"Wait, they knew the flight would be cancelled?" Leon asked, slightly surprised.

"That's what it sounded like."

"Why did they want you to inject a passenger of that flight?"

"They said that when people missed the plane they'd try other ways of getting home, like taking a bus or cab to the next city with an airport. They seemed to think the virus would be distributed more that way than if I infected a local."

"And you missed the plane too, so no one would suspect you, making it impossible to link this all back to them," said Leon, burying his face in his hands.

Dana nodded. "But when I told them that you were here, they said that I was to take any means necessary to make sure that you weren't able to interfere. They were the ones that told me to bring you here and make you the first carrier,"

Leon stared at her. Something still wasn't making sense.

"But how do they know who I am," he asked, "Why do they want me out of the way?"

"They have extensive knowledge on every event and person that was ever linked to Umbrella in any way. Your actions in Raccoon City were enough to make them keep an eye on you, and your most recent success against the Los Illuminados made them start seeing you as a real threat."

Leon looked up, startled. "How could they possibly know about what happened with the Illuminados? I only filed my report two days ago!"

"I don't know. They have access to the report you filed, I know that. The organization has also been in contact with Ada Wong, who gave them her own account of what happened."

Leon fell back into his seat, a wave of worry washing over him. If Umbrella had already come in contact with Ada, then that would mean that they had the Sample. And if they had the Sample, it would only be so long before they began putting it to use.

"Dana, do you know about any experimenting going on with something called the Las Plagas?"

Dana looked confused, then shook her head. "No, I'm sorry I have no idea. I know that there are experimental facilities, but I'm not ranked high enough to know where any of them are."

"Do you know how they accessed my report?"

Dana shook her head again.

Leon swore under his breath. Those documents were supposed to be kept secured. If someone had gotten hold of them, they now had all the information that Leon had accumulated while searching for and rescuing Ashley Graham. Those files had everything that he had learned about the Plagas, everything from how long they took to mature once hatched to how to remove them from the body. The report also contained everything that Luis Sera had told him about the Plagas, the symptoms, how they worked, everything. But the worst part was that someone from within Leon's own bureau must be passing information to these people, which made it completely unsafe for him to trust anyone. But he needed help if he was going to do anything about this.

Leon stood up. "I have to go," he said, glancing at Dana.

"W-What? But what about me? You said you could help!"

"If my bureau back in the states has been compromised, then there isn't a lot I can do without handing you over to the people who want to kill you." said Leon, "As soon as they find out I'm still alive, they're going to be trying to find you so that they can cover they're tracks."

"What should I do?" asked Dana, her face full of fear once again.

"Leave this hotel for one thing. Try to find a cheap motel to stay in."

"What are you going to do?"

Leon couldn't help but smile. "My job."

As Dana rushed to get her things together before leaving, Leon looked at the clock on the wall. It was almost nine in the morning here, meaning that it was the middle of the night in Washington. Dana stumbled back into the living room with her bag packed. Leon looked at her.

"I'm going to stay here for a little while longer. I won't be able to do anything until a little bit later when I can make a call to Washington."

"I thought you said that your office was compromised," said Dana, looking up at him in mild surprise.

"Yeah, but there are still one or two people that I think I might be able to contact without major risk."

Dana nodded. She moved quickly towards the door and opened it to leave. Before, stepping out, she hesitated and looked back at Leon.

"Thank you."

Leon nodded and Dana stepped outside, closing the door behind her. Leon checked his watch. It was about time he had a bit of real sleep. He set an alarm for a few hours later then collapsed on the couch. He was so tired that he didn't even dream.

The alarm woke him up several hours later. Leon opened his eyes, but didn't get up. He knew that he was once again going to be putting his life at risk. Still, it was either take action or sit here and wait for them to come to him. He knew that when they found out he was alive, they wouldn't just be after Dana, but him as well. After all, he now knew that they were up to something, and they wouldn't want news of that leaking out. Finally pulling himself into a sitting position, Leon pushed himself up from the couch and stretched. He then reached for his case, pulling it towards him. He opened it and shifted a few things aside, then pulled out a two way radio. Putting the earpiece in his ear, Leon flicked the radio on, knowing that the direct link with his office would start automatically. Leon felt pretty confident that the secretary wasn't the informant, so after this call was made, he probably had at least a day before anyone found out he was still around. He heard the static stop, and then the voice of the secretary came through, asking Leon for his name and clearance. Leon gave them.

After making sure they checked out, the secretary spoke again. "What can I do for you, Mr. Kennedy?"

Leon took a breath and hoped that this would go undetected.

"I need you to patch me through to Ingrid Hunnigan."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Leon stood in the dimly lit room, waiting for a voice from the other end of the radio. He was gripping it so hard that his hand was shaking slightly. The seconds stretched into minutes and he began to pace around the room. It was taking a long time, too long. Leon wasn't sure what his next plan of action would be if he couldn't get through to Hunnigan. She had, throughout his entire mission in Spain, always been there, helping him through, guiding him. He had grown to trust her in a way that he had trusted very few other people in his life. It was that trust that made him sure, beyond any doubt, that she would be on his side in this, that she would keep what he told her a secret. Leon glanced down at his watch. Almost twenty minutes had gone by. He began to feel a slight panic rising in him. What if the informant knew that Leon would try to contact his office at the first sign that something was going wrong? If that person knew about all of Leon's missions and history, then they'd also know that Hunnigan had been helping while he was rescuing Ashley, making her the first one they'd think he would contact. And if they thought he'd contact her, then they might try to get her out of the way….

There was a click from the radio as Leon's call was transferred.

"Leon?"

The voice came from the earpiece, confused and surprised. Leon breathed a sigh of relief and had a hard time suppressing a grin.

"Hey, you miss me?" he asked slyly.

"On or off duty, Leon, the answer is still no." She said it coolly enough, but Leon heard a note of amusement in her voice. Still, this wasn't the time.

"Hunnigan, I need you to do something for me."

"What's this about, Leon?"

Leon cringed at the sound of his name, realizing that anyone could be listening.

"Look, I need you to stop using my name for starters. Call me whatever you want, but leave my name out of anything you say."

"Wait, what's goin-"

"Next up," Leon interrupted, "I need you to run a background check for me, on someone named William Korrell."

"I can't just-"

But Leon interrupted her again.

"I need to know everyone that he's worked with and his current location. I need his employment history, his criminal record if he has one, his-"

"STOP," said Hunnigan loudly from the other side. She was breathing quickly in frustration and confusion. She took a deep breath before beginning to speak again.

"Look, I want to help you with this, I really do, but you have to give me something more to go on here. I can't just be running searches on people without some sort of reason."

Leon sighed, gripping the side of his head in frustration, trying to think of a way to tell Hunnigan everything she needed to know without revealing anything important to anyone who might be listening in. Choosing his words carefully, Leon began to speak.

"Alright. What if I told you that what happened a few days ago was just the tip of the iceberg? What if I told you that plans are being put in motion to….expand on what was learned? And what if I told you that those responsible are _very_ well informed as to how we do things?"

There was a long silence from the other end of the radio.

"I think I'm going to take the rest of the day off, my stomach feels like its doing back flips," said Hunnigan in a slightly pained voice.

"What? NO! Hunnigan I need your help with-"

"Yes , I'll let you know that I got home okay, make sure you keep your cell turned on," she said in a happy but very insistent voice.

Leon understood. "Sounds good," he replied.

The radio clicked and the sound of static came back, but Leon kept in turned on. If Hunnigan meant what he thought she meant, he could be expecting a call within the hour, though how she would get a radio out of the office was beyond him. Leon sat down on the couch again, leaning forward with his hands clasped in front of his mouth, wondering whether he would be able to prevent what was coming. He leaned back. It was pointless to try and figure out what was going to happen without any solid information. His only course of action right now was waiting for Hunnigan to contact him. Leon sat there waiting for over two hours, but the static from the radio remained uninterrupted. Once again, Leon began to pace around the hotel room. Even though he was relatively sure that no one could possibly know what Hunnigan was up to, there was still a small twinge of unrest in his stomach. She could have slipped up and mentioned his name to someone, but that wasn't likely, she was to smart for that. She could have been caught stealing a radio, or maybe she hadn't been aloud to take the rest of the day off, or….

"Leon?"

Hunnigan's voice sounded from the radio and Leon let out a small laugh of relief before picking up the earpiece.

"I'm here, why the delay?"

"Well, I usually don't make calls when I'm working."

Leon paused, then smiled. 'Of course,' he thought.

"You've already found him, haven't you?"

"William Korell was one of the biggest stockholders in Umbrella. He used to live right here in Washington, but after Umbrella went down, he completely dropped off the grid. No phone, no address, nothing."

"So there's nothing for us to go on?"

"I didn't say that. Believe it or not, I am pretty good at acquiring information."

Leon laughed. "My apologies, please continue."

"The plane you were supposed to be on for starters."

"What about it? I know that Korell's organization had a hand in canceling it, but that's all I know," said Leon, deciding not to question how she knew which plane he'd had a ticket for.

"Yes, I believe they did have a hand in canceling the flight, but they didn't do it by mechanical means. Leon, the plane is missing."

"Missing?" said Leon, "but how..."

But realization was starting to set in. This was it, the reason for the distraction. It stood to reason. Without a major distraction, it would be impossible for an aircraft to simply disappear. But if something happened in the area that the plane was meant to land, a mass outbreak of T-Virus for example…

"Hunnigan," Leon said in little more than a whisper, "How many people were on that plane."

Leon heard quick typing on the other end of the radio.

"Two hundred and thirteen people," she replied. "Leon, what does this mean?"

Leon's insides were boiling with both anger and fear. Without answering, he spoke into the mouthpiece again.

"When did the plane go missing? How many hours ago?"

There was more typing.

"About fifteen hours ago."

"More than enough time," Leon said, his hand clenching into a fist.

"Time to what? Leon, what's happening?"

"Over two hundred passengers, over two hundred test subjects," Leon replied, his voice void of emotion.

Hunnigan gasped in realization on the other end.

"Listen, I need you to stay in control," said Leon, "Is there anything else you can tell me that might help?"

Leon heard Hunnigan trying to compose herself. When she spoke, her voice was surprisingly level and calm.

"I checked out as much of Korell's history with Umbrella as I could. Apparently, he wasn't only a stockholder; he was on their payroll as well. There's nothing on file about what he actually did at Umbrella, but there is a list of people that reported too him. Two of those names were listed as passengers on the flight."

"That must be how they seized control of the plane. What were their names?"

"Thomas Clay and Henry Turner. There was also one more person with a ticket on their bill, for a man named Gregory Trell. He had a license to carry a gun onto the plane." 

"Definitely how they took control. How did he get clearance for that?"

"He's listed as an Air Marshall."

"Great, so they're well funded and well connected, this keeps getting better and better."

Leon paced around the room. The more he thought about it, the more serious the situation seemed. They couldn't request help from anyone because they had no idea who the informant was, and the precious few people that Leon knew he could trust were the ones that would be hardest to get a hold of. He'd known from the beginning, but it still caused him to flinch a bit when he said it out loud.

"I have to do this alone."

"Leon, this isn't something you can do alone. Where would you even start looking? You've got nothing to go on. You don't even know where the plane was taken!"

"Where was the plane when contact was lost?"

"About halfway out to sea from America. Leon, it could be anywhere."

Leon racked his brain, trying to figure out some way of knowing where the plane was.

"Listen, there has to be a way to locat-"

Leon broke off, listening intently. He was sure he had heard something from the hall.

"Leon?"

"Wait," whispered Leon, "I thought I heard something. Like footsteps."

"Leon, you're in a hotel. Of course there are footsteps."

He didn't answer. It hadn't sounded like one or two people. It had sounded like a lot, and it had sounded like they were running. Leon leaned against the wall, hidden from view of the door. He heard a creak on the floor outside. Leon peered out from behind the wall. He could see shadows moving through the crack at the base of the door.

"Hunnigan, I'll be in touch," he murmured.

Not waiting for her response, Leon clicked of the radio and removed the ear piece. He reached for his 9mm and drew it slowly form the holster, quietly flicking off the safety as he did. He knew he wouldn't stand much of a chance in a fire fight if the were all armed, but it didn't hurt to be ready. His weapons case wasn't far away, but he couldn't risk them coming into the room. Then he realized something. Glancing at the small table that he'd sat at with Dana, Leon saw the T-Virus syringe, still full, reflecting the light from the window.

Leon stared at it intently for a few seconds that seemed like hours. It had been rumored that the virus could be contracted by breathing it, but there had been no conclusive proof at all. Direct contact was seemingly the only way to become infected with the virus. Leon made his decision. Dashing forward as quietly as he could, Leon grabbed the small syringe. Feeling the wall behind him, he was pleased to feel it bend slightly when he pushed on it. Cheap drywall. Grasping his gun firmly, Leon raised it slightly and, after praying that he wouldn't be heard, gave the wall a quick but hard hit with the pistol base. He looked down at the hole he'd just created. Perfect. Leon inserted the head of the needle into the wall and disposed of the virus. Turning quickly with the empty syringe in hand, he tossed it lightly to the ground just inches from the sofa where he had slept. There was a crash and Leon heard the thud of the door hitting the ground. Leon heard what sounded like four or five people walk slowly into the room. Moving as silently as he could, Leon crept into the small kitchen and crouched behind the small block like counter in its center. Hardly daring to breathe, Leon waited.

"Sir!" came the voice of one of the men.

There was a rush of footsteps and then a pause. Then another voice broke the silence.

"It's empty. Maybe Miss Altridge was actually able to infect the agent."

'Yes,' thought Leon too himself.

"Hard to believe he'd go anywhere willingly without this case. He's got a fucking arsenal here, sir!"

A third voice spoke out. "He must have gotten infected and staggered off somewhere."

There was another pause. Then the man who was obviously in charge spoke again.

"Perhaps. Search the place. We can't afford any loose ends. You two, get that room there. I'll check the bathroom. You get the kitchen."

'Shit,' thought Leon.

Leon heard the bedroom door open, then the bathroom a second later. Leon heard footsteps on the kitchen floor. Thinking quickly, Leon put his 9mm back in its holster and faced the direction the steps were coming from and held his breath.

The barrel of the gun appeared around the counter. Leon tensed, waited until he could see the man's arms, then jumped out at him. The action was smooth and quick. Leon grabbed the man's wrist and placed a hand over his mouth. He quickly twisted the wrist to its breaking point, causing the man to drop his gun, which Leon caught immediately and placed it to his assailant's head.

"You are going to do exactly as I say exactly how I say it. If you don't, you die. Understood?"

Leon stared into his opponent's eyes while saying this. He never blinked or looked away. The man's eyes got wider with fear at each word that Leon uttered. He nodded quickly.

"I'm going to give you back your gun, but I will still have mine. It will be trained on you from here on out. You will walk five paces away from this counter so that you can be seen by your team. You will announce this room as clear. You will then volunteer to stay behind in case I come back. If I see any indication of you trying to run away or you trying to alert the other's that I am here, I swear to God I will put a bullet between you eyes if it's the last thing I do. Are we clear?"

The man nodded even more quickly this time. Leon drew his gun again and pointed it at his would be attacker. Then he place the man's gun back in his hands and mouthed the word 'Go'.

He stood up straight and took five paces in the direction that Leon had indicated. The way the room was set up, Leon could see the man from the kitchen, and the other men could see their teammate from the living area, but they couldn't see into the kitchen. Leon kept his gun pointed straight between his eyes, just as he'd promised. The voices and sounds of the others re-entering the living area reached Leon's ears.

"Bedroom all clear, sir."

"Good. And the kitchen?"

"Clear, sir."

'Good,' thought Leon, 'His voice isn't even shaking.'

"Looks like we're done here boys. Let's go deliver the good news."

Leon heard them all turn to leave. There was a pause in the footsteps.

"Is there a problem, Davis?"

The man had not moved a muscle. Still standing where Leon had instructed, the man named Davis cleared his throat.

"Sir, maybe I should stay behind in the unlikely event that he comes back."

There was another pause. Leon felt his heart rate increase exponentially. Then, after what seemed like an hour later, the lead man spoke again.

"Yes, good idea. Check in with me every couple of hours. If he hasn't made an appearance by nightfall, head to the docks, we'll send someone to pick you up."

Leon breathed a sigh of relief as he heard the other men leave. When the echoes of their footsteps could no longer be heard, Leon approached Davis.

"What's at the docks?"

"I don't know."

"Really? It sure sounded like you were pretty in on things."

Davis eyed Leon's handgun anxiously. Leon noticed.

"Well if you've got nothing else to tell me…" said Leon, placing the gun against the side of Davis' head.

It seemed like this was more stress than he could handle.

"A boat," he gasped "There's a boat waiting there to take us back to the facility. I don't know exactly where it is, I've only been there twice. Please, that's all I know."

Leon surveyed him calmly. Then he lifted his gun and brought the handle down hard on the back of Davis' skull. He fell to the floor, completely unconscious. Leon bent over him and relieved him of his gun and radio.

"Thanks Davis," said Leon.

He looked to where his case had been. It was gone, but he'd expected that. Leon walked over to the hotel window in time to see the other men leaving the building. Leon turned and dashed out of the hotel room. He made it to the stairs and practically flew down them in his rush to get outside. He made it too the lobby shortly after and ran to the exit. Bursting through the doors, he slowed down and got behind the nearest wall. He wasn't sure if they knew what he looked like, but he couldn't risk being identified. He watched them heading towards a white car in the parking lot. Looking around desperately, Leon saw a man just pulling into the lot on a motorcycle. Leon glanced back at the white car just in time to see the doors slam and the engine start. Groaning, Leon ran towards the man on the bike. Before the man could even take the keys out of the ignition, Leon had grabbed him by the back of his shirt and thrown him of the bike. Throwing all the money he had in his pocket on the ground at the man's feet Leon revved the engine of the bike and took off, calling over his shoulder as he went.

"Sorry! It'll be at the docks!"

Leon sped after the car, trying to keep at least one other vehicle between him and them at all times. They were driving at a normal speed, so he could only assume they had no idea he was following. Leon kept an eye on the car from a distance, not wanting to get to close in case one of the men noticed him. About twenty minutes later, they pulled into a coastal area. It was densely populated, with vendors and civilians everywhere. The car pulled into a parking lot. Leon parked the bike on the side of a road across from them. He watched as they all got out of the car and began walking towards the many boats not too far away. Leon shadowed the men, not getting too close, but not letting them out of his sight. When they reached the docking area, they walked out onto the floating platforms that lead to the boats. Leon didn't follow. The platforms were narrow and there were very few people in comparison to the streets behind him. If he were to follow they would notice almost immediately. He watched them as they walked down the platforms until they came to a large pleasure craft. It was a big boat. Whit, with what looked like two levels, There were ladders going up the sides from sea level on either side. Leon looked down at the water, It was murky brown and looked like pure mud. Probably from the pollution of all these boats. Leon hung his head for a second

"The things I do for his world."

Walking forward quickly until he was level with the boat Leon turned to face the water. Glancing in both directions to make sure that no one was watching, Leon dove in. It was murky and he couldn't see more than a foot in front of him. Leon struck out towards the boat. As he got close, he made a mental note of where it was and dove beneath the surface. He came up a few seconds later, right where he had wanted to be; about a foot away from one of the side ladders. Leon climbed slowly out of the water. Leaning to the side, he saw all three of the men on the top deck. The man who he guessed was in charge appeared to be on the phone. Something flashed at the man's hip. Leon looked down and saw an Air Marshall's badge.

"Gregory Trell. Guess I know who's in charge of the dirty work."

Leon slid quietly over the side of the boat. Keeping his eyes on the men, he made his way to the short staircase in the back of the boat that lead to the lower level. Passing the relatively well furnished main room, Leon made his way to a room that he guessed was used for storage. Leon hid himself behind what appeared to be a spare outboard motor. Sitting down, Leon rested his head on his knees. Moment's later, Leon looked up as he felt the boat begin to vibrate as the motors were started. Then there was a lurch as they began to speed away from the dock. Leon put his head back on his knees.

"Here we go again."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Leon sat in the darkness of the storage room, staring at the floor. He looked at his watch. He'd been on the boat for nearly two hours. Trell would be trying to contact Davis pretty soon. Leon lifted the radio he had taken from Davis and turned the volume down almost all the way. At least this way he'd know when Trell found out that Davis was out of commission . The boat lurched, causing Leon to become alert. Listening intently, he heard the sounds of the men leaving the main room and climbing the stairs. They were here. Staying as quiet as he could, Leon opened the storage room door and followed the men up the stairs. He stood near the top of the stairs, listening to make sure that all the men were on the deck and nowhere near him. When he was sure they wouldn't see him, he leaned against the side of the staircase and peered around the corner, catching his first sight of the Island.

Leon's eyes widened. It was massive. It sat in the ocean like a huge rock. Squinting, he was barely able to make out the other end of the island in the distance. His gaze swept back and forth. Something wasn't right. The island was massive, sure enough, but there was absolutely no sign of habitation. Squinting harder, Leon tried to locate something that suggested human presence, something like the outline of a building, but for all that he could see, this island really was nothing more than a rock. The sound of footsteps made Leon's attention snap back to the boat. One of Trell's men was coming his way. Leon turned to run back down the stairs, but realized he wouldn't make it to the storage room in time. Thinking quickly, Leon dashed to the other side of the boat, grabbed the side rail, and jumped over the side. His body thudded against the boatside, but the sound went unnoticed because of the waves hitting the hull. Leon's left hand slipped of the side rail with the impact. Leon hung there, his right arm threatening to give way. He struggled silently, trying to swing his other arm up to grasp the railing. The boat rocked with each wave that hit it, causing him to almost fall into the sea several times. Finally, using all the strength and concentration he could muster, Leon heaved. His left arm rose and came into contact with the railing. Leon grabbed it and held on.

"Too close," he muttered to himself.

Leon pulled himself up slightly so that he could see what was going on. As his head rose over the railing, Leon heard footsteps coming up the stairs on the boat. He hastily dropped back down into a hanging position. Leon shifted his grip on the rail. It was slippery, and his arms were getting tired fast. If he didn't find a way to get back on the deck quickly…

Leon's thoughts were interrupted by a clicking sound. He strained his ears, trying to locate where it was coming from. Then there was shouting from the deck of the boat.

"Sir, Davis isn't answering his radio," called one of the men.

Leon's eyes widened and his gaze snapped toward the radio hooked onto his belt. If anyone was able to hear it, it was all over. He hung there helplessly. If he didn't get rid of the radio, they might hear it, but if he released the rail with either hand again, he might fall into the water. Leon looked towards the island. The waves constantly crashing into its side hand made the rock smooth and impossible for him to climb without some sort of rope, and the waves were so violent in this area that he'd drown within minutes. The radio clicked again, and this time a voice came through.

"Davis, you fuckwad, answer the damn rad-"

The other end of the radio went silent. There was no static, so it was still transmitting on the other side, but the man had stopped talking. Shouting came from the deck of the boat once again. Leon was able to

"What's going on over there, Paulsen? Did you call him or what?"

"Its strange ,Sir, I thought I heard something. Sounded like my own voice coming back to me."

Leon closed his eyes, praying that he hadn't been found out. He had turned the volume down so low, how could Paulsen have heard it?

"Paulsen you idiot," yelled Trell, "It's just feedback from the god damn radio. Get your ass over here and give me that thing."

Leon held his breath for a few seconds, giving Paulsen time to make his way back to the front of the boat. Letting the breath out slowly, Leon pulled himself up and made sure the coast was clear. Using the last of his strength Leon hoisted himself back over the side and onto the boat itself. He took off his jacket and dragged it behind him as he hurried to the staircase, making sure that any wet footprints he left were quickly wiped away. Dashing silently down the stairs, Leon rushed to the storage room and whipped the door open. Stepping through, he quickly closed the door behind him and hid himself again behind the outboard motor. The radio began clicking again and Leon turned it off without a second thought. Resting his head against the wall behind him, Leon began to asses his situation. Trell now knew that Davis was out of commission. If he was a smart man, he'd know that Leon was onto him. If he wasn't, he'd know that _someone _was onto him. Either way, it meant that they knew someone would be looking for them. But they couldn't know that Leon was already there with them. And Davis hadn't known where the island was. That might make Trell feel a little more secure than he should. Still, they would be more on guard now, he'd have to tread lightly.

Leon felt the engine start up again. The boat sped forward, then banked to the right. Leon waited in silence for the boat to come to a stop. He had no idea where they were going to make port. He had seen nothing but rocks when he had looked towards the shoreline…

The boat banked sharply, causing Leon to lose both his train of thought and his balance. There was another sharp turn. It felt like they were completely out of control. Waves rocked the boat back and forth violently. Leon heard the side of the boat skim against the jagged rocks protruding from the water.

"What the hell?" he breathed, as the boat gave a particularly sickening lurch.

The way things were going, it seemed like it was only a matter of time before the boat either capsized or wrecked on the island's rocky bank. Leon pushed himself against the wall, trying to brace for what seemed like an inevitable impact. But none came. Instead, the rocking slowed and the boat leveled out and began running smoothly again. He heard laughter above him, as though the men on the deck were celebrating. Still wondering what had taken place, Leon crept slowly out of the storage room and headed toward the stairs. Standing at the bottom of the small flight of steps, he was able to hear what they were saying.

"That was too much. Think we could take it slower next time?" asked one of the men, though he was still laughing slightly. The laughter sounded more like it was out of relief than joy.

"We had to get hidden quickly," replied Trell, "With Davis not answering his radio, we have to assume that someone has found out what we're up too."

"Do you think it likely that anyone would find us here?" asked Paulsen, a note of fear poorly disguised in his voice.

"Davis didn't even know the location did he?" asked the other man, whose name Leon still didn't know.

"Be that as it may, it never hurt anyone to be cautious. Planes wouldn't be able to see that this place is any more than a rock unless they flew extremely low, and the ravine we just went through is almost invisible to boats, unless you know where it is, so getting here quickly was the best thing to do."

Trell's reassurance that they were in a safe place seemed to put an end to the discussion. The men didn't ask any more questions and, judging by the bustling sounds above, had gone back to working on getting the boat ready for docking. Leon waited silently at the bottom of the stairs. Before long, Trell's voice reached his ears again.

"Alright, Let's get to the front of the boat. We want them to recognize us right away so that we're not seen as a threat."

The sound of their footsteps moving away from him told Leon that it was safe enough for him to risk going up the stairs for a look around. He moved stealthily upward, stopping just before reaching the very top. Looking out the back of the boat, Leon realized what Trell had meant when he said no one would see the ravine. It was so narrow that it was almost completely unnoticeable. It also became apparent why the ride through it had been so rough. Waves crashed around between the walls of the ravine, violently enough to turn the water into white rapids. Looking around, Leon saw that the ravine had lead into some kind of inner lake. It was a large circle that seemed to have been scooped out of the middle of the island. The water here was calm. The vibrating sound of the motor echoed off the rock faces that surrounded the lake. Had it not been for the present situation, the location may have seemed quite beautiful. But now was not the time to be admiring scenery. Leon directed his attention back to the front of the boat. He took a quick look around the side of the staircase, making sure that Trell and the others were still standing a good distance away. Trell and the man who Leon didn't know were at the railing at the boat's front. Paulsen was standing at the controls a slight distance behind them. It seemed unlikely that they'd be coming back this way too soon. He could hear them talking amongst themselves, but it was impossible for him to discern what they were saying. Leon concentrated as hard as he could, trying to catch something that would give him some information about the island, but he still couldn't pick out a single word. He looked around the corner again. All of their attention seemed to be focused on the same thing. Following their gaze, he saw what looked like a small harbor in the distance. As they got closer, he was able to make out more boats, all similar to the one he was in now. But there was something strange about the way they were arranged. It became more and more apparent as they came closer to the dock. Instead of being tied neatly side by side, the boats were strewn around the harbor as if there had been a storm. Some were still tied to the pier, but most of the boats had either been untied or come loose some other way. Some floated aimlessly, moving slowly away from the dock. Others were nudging against the rock faces on either side of the pier. None of them appeared to have a crew. There was also debris. Splintered wood littered the entire area, making it obvious that at least a couple of boats had been completely destroyed. Whether they had been smashed against the cliff sides or been wrecked by another method, Leon was unable to tell. Trell's voice rang out suddenly, echoing off the surrounding rocks.

"Take out your weapons! Be ready for anything when we land!"

"Land? We can't land! We have to get the hell out of here! I'm not risking my neck for these people! Have you looked around? Something has obviously gone wrong. We all know what they're doing in there. I'm not going, there's no way. I'll take the boat back! I'll turn myself in to whoever's looking for me! I Don't care! Nothing can make me go in there!"

Paulsen had abandoned the controls, his voice was dripping with fear. Every word he said came out shaky. Leon could practically hear him trembling from head to foot. Whatever was going on in the facility, it had him scared to the breaking point. When Trell spoke again, his voice was calm, but Leon could hear the deadliness behind it.

"So you know what's going on at this facility, do you?"

"W-We were all given the file when we signed on. We all know what's in there."

"Right you are. And what do you think the company will do to you if you decide to sever ties with them, knowing that you know what's going on? You think they'll give you a nice little separation bonus and let you walk away clean?"

"I-I don't-"

"You don't know? Would you like me to inform you?"

"No, I-"

"Has it even occurred to you that what destroyed those boats might be in the water?"

For a moment, Leon didn't hear anything. He wasn't sure if they had lowered their voices or if the talking had stopped altogether. As he leaned over to take another look, he heard Paulsen's quaking voice again.

"I-In the water, S-Sir?"

There was a sneer in Trell's voice when he spoke again.

"I thought you said that you'd read the file Paulsen? You must know that the company is experimenting with marine bio-weapons as well? The sample that we have procured is full of untapped potential. And I'd prefer to be on the side of the weapon holders when the experiments succeed, wouldn't you?"

There it was. Confirmation of what Leon had been afraid of all along. He had been confident that it was what they were up to the whole time, but hearing that Umbrella was engineering bio-weapons using the sample still made his stomach turn. He turned his attention back to Trell and Paulsen.

"I didn't think-"

"Didn't think of it? Somehow that doesn't surprise me. Now I don't know about you, but I want to get paid. That won't happen without the guy who signs the check, will it? We're going in there, so get out your sidearm."

There was another pause. Leon could hear someone mumbling, but not what they were saying. The mumbling stopped, and Leon heard what sounded like laughter coming from the front of the boat.

"So that's what you want to do, is it? Take your chances and run?"

"I'd rather take my chances against the company than against what's in there!" cried Paulsen, his voice fearful, but certain.

"Well then you've already lost, Paulsen, because I'm still very much on Umbrella's side."

The sound of a gunshot almost made Leon jump. A yell of shock came from the other man with Trell.

"What's it going to be, Rothwell?" Leon heard Trell ask in a calm voice, "You want to turn the boat around too?"

There was nothing but silence. Leon leaned forward and looked toward the front of the boat. He saw both Trell and the newly identified Rothwell standing there. Rothwell was shaking visibly. Paulsen wasn't visible, but a puddle of blood was gathering around Rothwell's feat. Trell was still holding his gun, completely relaxed, his weapon gripped lazily in his hand, aimed at the floor. Rothwell shook his head slowly.

"N-No, sir. I-I want to get paid too, s-sir."

"Ah, a man with his priorities straight, that's what I like to see," said Trell in a lighthearted, happy voice. He gestured for Rothwell to man the boat controls, continuing to look happy, but keeping his gun drawn.

The engine came back to life and they began moving toward the dock again. When the boat was close enough, Trell had Rothwell cut the engine, then jump out and secure the boat to the pier. When the boat was tied securely, Trell jumped onto the dock as well.

"Let's have a look around. Stay alert."

Rothwell nodded. He seemed a bit more relaxed now that the fear of immediate death had passed, but his eyes flicked back to the gun in Trell's hand every once in a while. There was silence as they wandered the pier, searching for clues as to what had happened. Leon could see their upper bodies as they looked around outside the boat, bending over to investigate things on the ground. Unable to see what they were looking at, he waited patiently for them to enter the facility so that he could investigate the scene also. Rothwell broke the silence, his voice coming from a part of the pier that Leon couldn't see.

"Sir! There's a body over here! And…and.."

Rothwell's voice trailed off in confusion. Leon watched Trell walk quickly over to where Rothwell stood and out of sight.

"What the hell?" said Trell in a voice that Leon could barely hear.

"I-I didn't see anything like that in the file," said Rothwell nervously.

There was a pause before Trell spoke again, as if he was thinking his answer out carefully. Leon listened intently, careful not to miss a word of what was said.

"It must be a product of the new sample. We wouldn't have any real documentation on it yet. As for the rest of the bodies, it looks like there was a T-Virus outbreak."

"But there are no bodies."

"Exactly. There's blood everywhere, but only one body to speak of. See the way the blood is pooled as if someone died here? Same thing over there. Everyone who was killed here just got up and walked back into the facility."

Trell came back into Leon's line of sight. He was looking toward the large door that stood ajar at the end of the pier. The door lead into what looked like an underground hallway, its dim lights barely visible from the outside. Rothwell joined Trell soon after, engaging him in what looked like a whispered argument. Trell turned to face Rothwell suddenly, giving the hand he was holding his gun in a meaningful twitch before nodding towards the facility door. This seemed to end the argument. Both men walked cautiously to the doorway, Trell slightly behind. They paused to look through when they reached it, then disappeared inside. Leon decided to give them a few minutes to make sure that they weren't coming back. As he waited, he tried to figure out what Trell's motivation for entering the facility was. Umbrella probably had him believing that if he was loyal to them, they would reward him somehow.

"Some people almost deserve to get tricked," he said to himself, shaking his head slightly at how easily persuaded some people were.

Feeling that enough time had passed, Leon emerged from the staircase and approached the side of the boat. Ignoring the small ladder, he jumped down onto the dock. Looking around, he immediately saw what Trell had been talking about. There were obvious signs that some sort of attack had happened here. Blood was streaked across the wooden planks of the dock. There were puddles of it in several place where people had obviously fallen, dead or dying. Torn clothing was strwn about the place, and upon closer investigation, Leon saw that what he had though was just a shoe was actually a full human foot that appeared to be chewed off at the ankle. And yet, even though there was so much evidence of a massacre, there were no bodies. Leon turned and walked to where Rothwell and Trell had found the only body, drawing his gun and holding it ready, just in case. When his eyes fell on the corpse, he froze. The body and the are around it was charred, as though both had been burned by fire. The body, though blackened, was still easily identifiable as human. The body wasn't what bothered Leon. It was the head. Leon closed his eyes and covered his face with his free hand, letting the one holding the gun to fall limply to his side. The head, if you could call it that, looked like it had exploded. In its place was a long, ropelike growth, which appeared to be made of some sort of sinew. At the end was a lethally sharp blade. Leon backed away. They had figured out how to infect people with Las Plagas already, and all because of the information in his report.

But there was something different about this one that was different from the Plagas that he had dealt with before. He remembered how these bladed growths had whipped through the air, threatening to seriously injure him, or decapitate him altogether. The ones that he'd dealt with had been longer, but much thinner. Looking down at the body again, he saw that the sinew of this growth was much thicker. Looking closer, he also saw that there were several smaller blades protruding every few inches along the growth. How was it possible that they had already managed to alter the Plagas? How far had the experimenting advanced? Then he remembered.

"Ada," he muttered.

She must have been sending reports on how the Plagas worked since she first arrived in Spain. Leon swore to himself. This place must have been conducting research before they even received the sample. But there was still the question of why. What reason could they have for developing even more dangerous Plagas? Umbrella already had the T-Virus for creating Bio Organic Weapons, so why did they need the Plagas also? The sound of gunshots echoing out of the doorway into the facility caused Leon's attention to snap back to the present situation. He hurried over to the door, but hesitated. He knew that he should radio Hunnigan and give her an update on what he had overheard, but the gunshots suggested that Trell and Rothwell were in trouble. It wasn't so much their safety that Leon cared about, but the fact that Trell had information on what was going on. If he died, Leon had no leads at all. He checked the cartridge of his 9mm, making sure it was full. Flicking off the safety, Leon held his gun ready in front of him. Then, taking one last breath of the fresh air outside, he stepped into the facility.


	5. Chapter 5

Hey guys, just wanted to say to anyone that's been following this story that I'm sorry that it took me so long to get chapter five up. I've been busy, but I promise I'll be posting a chapter every few weeks from here on out. Hope you enjoy it!

**Chapter 5**

Leon stood in the dimly lit corridor, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darker area. The smell of blood, sweat and gunpowder was almost overwhelming. As things began to come into focus, more evidence of the massacre that had taken place became apparent. The metal walls were splattered with blood and bullet holes. Deep gouges had been taken out of the walls and floor. Spent bullet casings lay everywhere, scattering across the floor with a clinking sound as Leon's feat brushed against them. Sparks were raining down from shattered lights in some areas, dying as they came into contact with the blood soaked floor. Even with his eyes adjusted to the lighting, Leon still had difficulty seeing more than a few meters in front of him. Looking from side to side, he saw that the corridor extended in two different directions. Leon began searching for a clue as to which way the two men had gone, but didn't have to look far. A fresh set of footprints through the carnage leading off to the left told him all he needed to know. Tightening his grip on the gun, Leon set off quickly but silently down the dark, lifeless corridor.

As Leon moved down the corridor, he thought about the body that he'd seen. It had been a Plaga, that was obvious, but why had it gone through changes? And who had been controlling it? As far as he knew, there needed to be someone in control in order for Las Plagas to do anything at all…

Leon's thoughts were interrupted suddenly when he came across another gore drenched scene. A scientist sat slumped against the wall to Leon's right, his white coat turned almost completely red by the blood that had run out of the wound in his neck. Leon raised his gun to shoot the man in the head, making sure he wouldn't reanimate, but something stopped him. Lowering the gun, he leaned in closer to the man's neck. It wasn't a bite. Something had perfectly slashed through the man's jugular, probably killing him in a matter of seconds, but that wasn't all. There seemed to be imprints in the blood on the man's face. Small smudges that looked like…

"Fingerprints?" Leon whispered.

The confusion that he felt was audible in his voice. It looked as though someone had held the scientist's head in their hands after he had died. Leon had a hard time believing that people who were panicking and running around would stop for any reason at all, much less something so pointless. Leon looked at the man's body again. The majority of the prints seemed to focus around the wound, as though someone had been investigating it after it happened. But there was no evidence of any kind to suggest that anyone had tried to help. The wound wasn't bandaged in any way. It looked as though someone had just curiously poked at it and then moved on. Remembering that he did not have time to waste, Leon stood up to continue down the corridor, but he couldn't resist one last look before leaving. He wasn't sure why, but he was disturbed by the state of the body, a feeling that he couldn't get rid of. Leon shook his head, trying to get his mind back on the task at hand. Looking down the hall, he noticed a small sign: Research Lab (Researchers Only). There was a small arrow on the sign pointing straight ahead.

"Might as well see if there's any info on what I'm up against," he said to himself.

Turning around, he knelt next to the scientist's body. Leon found what he was looking for quickly: A keycard, clipped to the man's blood stained jacket. Pocketing the card, Leon put his hand over the man's eyes, closing them for good.

"Thanks for the help," he said quietly.

Getting to his feet, Leon looked down the path he had to take to get to the lab. Unsure of what to expect, he automatically checked his gun again. Pulling the clip out, he made a mental note of how many bullets he had.

"Sixteen shots, no extra clips," he said with a sigh, loading the clip back into the gun.

Holding the weapon ready at his side, Leon once again began to move down the corridor.

The corridor felt endless. Leon had been walking for minutes that felt like hours because of how cautiously he was moving. Blood drenched scenes were beginning to appear more frequently, telling Leon more than he wanted to know about the outbreak. He had hoped that he'd be able to find at least one survivor, but that hope was beginning to fade with each bloody handprint he found on the walls. There had been numerous doors that looked like they might be personal offices, but the keycard had not worked on any of them. Leon came to a halt when the corridor split into two different routes. Another small sign was barely visible in the darkness. Stepping closer to it, Leon squinted to make out what it said. There were two things printed on the sign, along with two arrows. The first arrow indicated that the Research Lab that Leon was looking for was still straight ahead. The other arrow pointed down the corridor that he'd just found.

"Security Wing," he read out loud.

Leon looked down the hall that veered off in the direction of the Security Wing, trying to decide which way Trell was more likely to go. Glancing down at the floor in search of a clue, Leon noticed what looked like several drops of blood. Leon's eyes followed the trail of blood as far as he could see down the hall to the Security Wing until the drops disappeared into the darkness. There were footprints in some places, where whoever had been injured had stepped in the small puddles of their own blood. The prints seemed to be moving in the direction of the Security Wing. Making his decision, Leon began to follow the footprints away from his original destination.

A sudden crash made Leon turn quickly, his gun raised to shoulder level, ready to fire.

"What the hell?"

It had sounded like glass breaking, and it had definitely come from the direction of the Research Lab. Leon stared down the now quietly dark metal hallway, unsure of how to proceed. On one hand, he wanted to follow the trail of blood and find whoever was injured before they either died or were attacked again. On the other, shattering glass made it sound like someone was in trouble. Leon looked back down the Security Wing corridor, torn between the two choices. He knew that he should follow the blood trail, because if it was Trell that was injured, then Leon's last real lead didn't have much time left to live. But he couldn't just ignore the possibility that someone might be fighting for their life…

A gunshot sounded, echoing off the metal paneling of the Research Lab corridor and prompting Leon into action. Turning away from the Security Wing, he began running toward the sound of the gunshot, trying to make as little noise as possible. He hadn't been going for long when he heard a dull thud not too far ahead. Slowing to a fast walk, Leon strained his ears. Another thud sounded, and then another. Soon the sound of the dull impact was repeating quickly and sporadically, as though someone was pounding on a door. As he came closer to the source of the thudding sound, Leon held his gun ready. If his ears were serving him properly, then the commotion was just around the next bend in the corridor. Leon took a steadying breath and stepped around the bend, gun raised and ready for action.

His eyes widened.

"Holy shit," he whispered hoarsely.

A crowd of people, clearly infected with T-Virus, were crowded around a heavy metal door, hitting it repeatedly, trying to gain access to the room. A wide window to the right of the door had been smashed, the glass shards strewn everywhere. A table had been turned on its side and pushed up against the pane-less window in an effort to keep the undead out, but they were beginning to push it out of the way in their frenzied attempt to get at whatever was inside. Above the attackers, a half-lit sign high on the wall read: Research Lab.

'Just my luck,' Leon thought, as he moved backwards slowly, pressing himself up against the wall behind him and moving along the bend until he was out of sight. They hadn't noticed him yet, and he was in no hurry to announce his presence. Remaining half hidden by the wall, Leon stuck his head out and quickly took count of how many attackers there were. There were three at the window, and four more crowded around the door; seven in total. Leon brought his head back around the wall, a grim smile forming across his lips.

"Barely a warm-up."

Leaning against the wall, Leon held his gun against his forehead. Closing his eyes, he made a mental image of the scene. The three at the window were the closest; he could dispatch them quickly if his am was good. Leon took another look around the bend. The table that was acting as a barricade was beginning to move under the onslaught of the three zombies at the window. As he watched, one of the four at the door turned its attention to the window and began pushing the table as well. Leon knew that he needed to act fast if he wanted to prevent them from getting into the lab.

"Guess I'll make this up as I go," he muttered to himself.

Stepping out into the open, he gazed down the sights of his weapon. Focusing on the closest attacker, Leon gave a short, loud whistle, causing most of the zombies to turn in his direction, giving him clear shots. Leon breathed in deeply.

"Here we go."

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The first zombie to turn around fully was met with a bullet straight through the forehead. Without so much as a blink, Leon turned his focus to the second zombie. Its head snapped backwards with the force of the bullet. The other two that had been at the window staggered towards him, their mouths open and ready to feed. Moving swiftly to the side so that his attackers were one behind the other, Leon planted a kick to the closer one's chest, causing it to stagger backward into the other and send both crashing to the floor. The zombies that had been at the door were moving towards him now. As the first one reached him, Leon dropped to one knee, placed the barrel of his weapon against the bottom of its jaw, and pulled the trigger. As the defeated enemy began to fall, Leon shoved the body towards the other two advancing zombies, stalling them temporarily. Turning his attention back to the two that he had knocked down, Leon disposed of both in rapid succession, planting a bullet into the top of each of their skulls. Leon turned back towards the remaining two zombies to find them almost on top of him. Swinging his gun around, he unloaded three bullets at them. One of the zombies fell with a bullet through the temple, but the other only took a hit in the shoulder and kept coming. As Leon tried to raise his gun for a kill shot, the zombie's scrambling hands knocked the weapon from his grip, sending it clattering across the floor and out of reach. Leon was hit by the full weight of his attacker and fell to the floor with the zombie on top of him. Grabbing the zombie's throat with one hand, Leon was able to keep the gnashing teeth at bay. Dead skin and dried blood fell into Leon's face, causing him to close his eyes for fear of being infected. Still holding the zombie at bay with one arm, Leon grasped around desperately with the other, trying to find some form of weapon. His hand came into contact with a long shard of glass from the broken window. Grabbing the shard and holding it securely, Leon mustered his strength and forced the zombie's head sideways with the hand he had on its throat. Swinging his other arm with all his strength, Leon plunged the glass shard through its eye and into its brain. His assailant's body went limp. Struggling out from under the dead body, Leon stood up, breathing deeply from the close call. Walking over to where his gun had fallen, he picked it up and pulled out the magazine. Of the sixteen bullets that he'd had originally, there were now only eight left.

"There's got to be ammo in this place somewhere," he said almost desperately.

"Well, yes, I believe you'll find that there is," said a voice from behind him.

Leon spun around, all weariness forgotten, his gun pointed directly at the speaker. The man was a bit shorter than he was, and was wearing a white, bloodstained lab coat. He had brown hair that was beginning to recede. Leon guessed him to be in his mid forties. The side of his head was poorly bandaged, with blood visible through the white cloth. It looked as thought he'd lost an ear. The man was cowering, his fearful eyes on the gun in Leon's hands.

"S-so sorry, so sorry!"

He practically sobbed the words. Despite how pathetic the man looked, Leon remained suspicious. If he was wearing a lab coat, then he was probably a scientist in this facility, which made him an enemy. As the man continued to cower, Leon noticed something sticking out of his pocket.

"What's that?" Leon asked, lowering his gun slightly and gesturing at the man's side.

"What? This thing?" the man asked, reaching into his pocket.

He pulled out a gun similar to the one Leon was holding. Leon instantly snapped his weapon back to shoulder level.

"Hold it," he said firmly.

"Y-yes of course. I'm s-sorry, sir. I just wanted to thank you f-for fighting them off."

"You had a gun and you didn't help me. Why?" asked Leon, his voice still harsh.

"I w-wanted too, sir. I swear I did! But I'm just so awful with the things. I couldn't even get it to shoot at first, and when I did, I almost hit myself in the foot! P-please try to understand…"

The man quailed under the look that Leon was giving him. With his eyes never leaving the man's face, Leon moved forward and held out his hand.

"Give it too me."

The man obliged, passing Leon the gun as if it was a poisonous snake ready to bite. Leon examined it. It was a 9mm, the same as his. Removing the clip, he saw that there were 14 bullets in it. There was still one in the chamber. Leon popped it out and loaded it back into the clip, which he slid into an inner pocket of his jacket.

"I-I have more ammunition inside, if you'd like," said the man, who had been completely silent while Leon was examining the gun.

Leon peered through the now open doorway into the lab.

"I don't know how safe I feel cornering myself in there, especially when there's a massive entrance like that," Leon said, indicating the broken window.

"Ah, yes. I couldn't get in, you see. I misplaced my keycard, so I had to break in using the handle of that gun you took. It would have been easier to shoot the glass, of course, but at the time I still had no idea how to do so and they were right behind me so I did what I could and…"

The man fell silent once again under the look Leon was giving him.

"I-I'm sorry. I tend to ramble on when I'm nervous."

"You don't say. I didn't catch your name," said Leon.

"Oh. It's Nicolas, Nicolas Harding."

"What happened to your head, Harding?" Leon asked, pointing at the bloody bandage, "You didn't get bitten did you?"

He asked the second question much more threateningly. Harding rushed to answer.

"N-NO! Th-this is just friendly fire! A guard was sh-shooting at one of them and he c-clipped my ear by mistake!"

He was stumbling over words, and seemed desperate, but Leon believed him.

"Tell me something, Harding," said Leon, holstering his gun, "What are you doing here? You don't exactly seem like the type that's bent on global domination."

Harding laughed humorlessly.

"Well, sir," he said, "If you are asking me if I am here of my own accord, then the answer would have to be a no."

"How did you get here, then?" asked Leon.

"I'm a medical researcher with the Tricell company."

"Hold on, you work for Tricell?" interrupted Leon, instantly becoming more interested.

"Yes. They kidnapped an entire group of us, all in the same profession."

"Which is what, exactly?"

Harding hesitated for a moment.

"Cellular research," he answered heavily.

Leon stared at Harding.

"What do they have you doing?" he asked.

Leon saw a sweat break out across Harding's forehead.

"W-well we didn't really know. How could we? They would just come in every day, tell us to do something, and threaten us if we didn't give them results…"

"Harding, what did they have you doing?"

"Couldn't possibly have thought that it would lead to…well…that. We were scared after all, who wouldn't be? We were just trying to survive this awful place…"

"Harding!" said Leon loudly.

Harding stopped talking and looked up at Leon, his eyes fearful. He looked like he was close to tears. He breathed deeply before answering.

"We were looking for ways combine humans with something else on a cellular level. At least, that's what my group was working on. I know that we were a smaller unit, working on something that was supposed to be kept completely under wraps, even from some of the higher up people who were making us do this work. Anyway, there were multiple other groups working on different things."

"You said you were looking for ways to combine humans with something. Combine them with what?"

"Well that's the thing! We didn't know. They would just come in to the lab that we were confined to and demand results. Without really knowing what we were working with, progress was slow. But when we were given the proper materials…"

Harding broke off and shuddered. Leon felt a plummeting feeling in his stomach.

"You were working with Plagas samples, weren't you?"

"Plagas? Yes, I believe that was what they were called. I had never seen anything like them. At first, we were only theorizing, using the notes of some scientist that I'd never heard of before. We didn't start working with the real thing until just over two days ago, when they began bringing samples and rushing us. Most of us didn't even sleep for two nights."

"This scientist whose notes you were using," Leon said slowly, "Do you remember seeing his name on any of the documents? Or hearing it from someone?"

"I believe so. Just let me think for a minute…yes. The name was Sera, Luis Sera if memory serves me correctly."

'It does,' Leon thought, feeling his stomach drop a few more feet. It was as he'd thought, Ada was sending back information, and information she'd gotten from Luis. He recalled how extensive Luis' knowledge on the Plagas had been and groaned.

"Do you know what the other groups were researching?" asked Leon.

"Not exactly, but each group was made to keep notes on their progress. All those notes are saved on the computers here in the lab. I'm pretty good with computers, I could probably bypass the password system and access those notes for you, if you'd like."

"Yeah," said Leon, feeling like he was waking up from a trance. "Yeah, that'd be perfect."

Deciding that the information in the lab was worth the risk of cornering himself in there, Leon followed Harding into the room. As Harding slid into a chair in from of one of the computers, Leon questioned him one more time.

"I know that you can't tell me whether or not the other groups succeeded in their research, but what about your group? What did you mange to do?"

The look of fear was prominent again in Harding's eyes as he turned to face Leon.

"W-we didn't know what to call it. We kept notes also, they're all here. I'd prefer not to discuss it out loud."

"Why not?"

Harding turned back to the screen and continued typing and bringing up different research files.

"Because I don't want to relive that nightmare."

Standing up, Harding avoided eye contact.

"It's all there," he said. "It looks like there were four groups. These are all the notes that were taken on their research and experiments between the time the began working and when the outbreak occurred. I hope you find something that will help."

Leon almost stopped Harding as he walked away from the monitor, but decided against it. Harding seemed to be lost in his own world at the moment. Sighing, Leon turned towards the computer and sat down, ready to finally find out exactly what Umbrella was up to this time.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Leon's eyes skimmed over the computer screen. There were four different folders listed, each with a different name and group number.

He clicked each of them in turn, opening several pages of files. When he clicked the fourth folder, however, he was asked to input a password. Leon turned to the table where Harding sat staring down at the fake wood of the tabletop.

"Harding, the folder for the fourth group is encrypted."

There was a pause before Harding answered, without looking up.

"That was my group," he said, sounding as though he was fighting to keep a steady voice, "Only a few of us knew the password, and I wasn't one of them."

Leon wanted to press the subject, but the scientist didn't seem to be ready to help in any way. Turning back to the screen, Leon clicked on the Group One folder. It seemed that notes had been entered into the system every half hour for the last five days. Leon glanced over at Harding again.

"You guys didn't sleep much, did you?"

Harding continued to stare at the table, still reliving the events that had taken place earlier. Leon turned his gaze back toward the monitor. He scrolled through the first few entries, most of which seemed to be threats by the scientist in charge of taking notes.

_Day 1, 05:23_

_You listen. There are people looking for us. People will notice that we're gone. We are all very prominent in our field and our company will do everything in its power to get us back. If you value your freedom you WILL release us immediately._

_Howard Blake_

Leon read quickly through the next few entries, most of which seemed to be saying the same as the first. Then he reached one that was different.

_Day 1, 07:52_

_Dr. Sera's notes are extensive regarding the cellular makeup of Las Plagas. Using them, we believe we have discovered how a host is taken. I am on my way back to the lab, everyone is co-operating without complaint._

_Theodore Newman_

Leon did not like thinking about why the scientist taking notes had suddenly changed. He read on, his stomach sinking with every word.

_Day 2, 10:23_

_We believe that our understanding of the Plagas has gone as far as it can using nothing but notes. We will begin getting the test subjects ready to become hosts. We will begin the tests with 54 subjects._

Leon closed his eyes. He'd been right about the passengers on the missing plane being used as test subjects. The scientists seemed to have moved very quickly through Luis' notes. Luis had been a brilliant man, and his research had led to horrible things in Spain. Leon shuddered when he thought about what could happen if these scientists were all working on a way to make Las Plagas even more deadly. Leon turned to Harding again.

"Was it your group that was working on making the Plagas more lethal?"

Harding looked up at Leon. His eyes had bags under them and looked red from fatigue. The look on his face told Leon that it was taking him a while to compute what Leon was asking him.

"More lethal? No. Mine was a much smaller task force, with fewer test subjects. We were not expected to succeed, I believe, or else the security may have been stronger around our lab."

Leon didn't like the sound of that.

"What exactly did you do? Create new Plagas? A new form of T-Virus? What?"

Harding stared at Leon, his eyes empty, as though he had been broken by recent events.

"We brought them both together. The result was..." a look of horror crossed Harding's face, "...was unlike anything we had expected."

Harding went back to staring at the floor. Leon sighed and went back to reading the notes on the development of the Plagas. After searching through a few more entries, Leon found what he was looking for.

_Day 3, 13:24_

_The Sample has arrived on time. Sera's research has made replicating the sample very easy. We have begun injecting the Plaga eggs into some of the subjects._

Leon leaned back in the chair. His eyes were beginning to itch from staring at the screen for so long. As he rubbed them, he wondered how the outbreak had occurred if the Plagas had been docile. And there had also been T-Virus had they all come from? What went wrong? He stopped rubbing his eyes and looked back at the screen. The list of entries in the _Day 3 _folder ended with the one that he had just read. Leon checked the folders for the other two days, but both were empty.

"The entries stop midway through day three," Leon said, turning to Harding, "Know why?"

Harding didn't look at Leon when he answered.

"I would guess that the files are on one of the computers in the lab where they were experimenting."

Leon looked around. Until now he had assumed that everything had happened in this room, but that couldn't be right. This lab looked ill equipped to do much more than study something under a microscope. It was large, but filled with tables and filing cabinets as opposed to any actual scientific equipment.

"So they moved when the sample arrived?"

Harding shrugged. "It's what all the groups did."

Leon looked back at the screen. There were still three other files, each containing another group's initial notes, including the group Harding had belonged to. Ignoring his curiosity, Leon turned away from the screen. If this group really was trying to create a new and more lethal form of Plaga, then he had do everything he could to stop it, and fast. He had seen what the original Plagas could do, and he couldn't imagine anything being a greater threat to the population. Leon stood up and looked at Harding.

"I'm going to find the Lab where the first group was working," he said, "You coming?"

Harding's gaze turned slowly from the floor to Leon. He looked hesitant. Leon didn't push the question.

"Can you point me in the right direction then?" Leon asked, drawing his handgun from its holster and checking the magazine again, confirming what he already knew.

Harding didn't speak right away. He looked as though he was fighting to find words. Leon was about to ask again when he spoke.

"I don't know where the lab is, but the main corridor splits and goes in two different directions a few minutes from this room. My group went down the left corridor, Group One went down the right."

Leon nodded and pushed the magazine back into his handgun. He holstered the weapon and turned to Harding one more time.

"You're okay with staying here alone?"

Harding's eyes were directed at the floor once again. He spoke so quietly that Leon had to lean in closer to hear him.

"There are multiple infected corpses outside the room, I doubt the live ones will be able to smell me. If the door stays closed, I should be fine."

Leon was about to mention the massive opening where a window to the room had been not too long ago, but one look at Harding told him that it would be no use. The man seemed to be going through shock.

'Guess I can't blame the guy,' Leon thought, still looking at Harding, 'If I hadn't seen this shit before, I probably wouldn't be coping well either.'

Leon checked his coat, making sure that the clips he'd received from Harding were still in the inner pocket. Then he made his way to the door.

"I'll come back here when I'm finished checking out that lab," he said, hoping that Harding was listening, "Until then just-"

"Shhhhh!"

Harding's eyes had gone wide again. He had one finger over his mouth, and was sitting up straight for the first time since Leon had entered the room. Leon turned his attention back to the open doorway, straining his ears. A faint sound reached his ears. It sounded like metal grinding against metal, and it was getting louder. Leon pulled out his gun and stood with his back against the door frame.

"Harding," he whispered, "Find cover."

Harding didn't move, he just kept staring at the doorway.

"It's one of them," he said, not bothering to whisper, "One of the Type Two experiments."

"Type Two? Harding, what are you-"

The grinding sound had become too loud for Leon to speak without shouting. Whatever this thing was, it was big, and right outside the door. There was no way it would pass them by, Harding's carelessness had seen to that.

"Damn it!" Leon exclaimed, turning through the door, gun raised, trying to see what he was up against.

Something flew through the air, descending towards Leon's head. It moved slow enough that Leon was able to lunged out of the way, but the crashing sound that it made when it connected with the floor told him that if he'd been hit, it would have been over for him instantly.

Leon looked at the thing that now occupied the place he had stood only seconds before. It was organic, made up mostly of raw flesh, but there were bones as well. Bones that seemed to be as hard as metal. The thing began dragging back along the floor, the grinding sound of the hardened bone against the metal floor was almost deafening in the enclosed hallway. Leon's eyes followed the mutated limb back to it's origin.

A man stood a few meters away from Leon. The mutation was protruding from between where his right arm should have been and his head. He was using his left arm to help him drag the bladed arm back towards him. His eyes were almost glowing red against the darkness of the corridor, and his teeth were bared in an animalistic growl. Part of his face had melted into the arm, and his head moved with it while he tried to swing it towards Leon again.

Leon brought his gun up to shoulder level again. Aiming careful for the creature's head, he fired twice. Even though its head snapped back with the force of the bullets, the creature kept coming, lifting its mutated arm.

Leon scanned the arm for some sort of weakness. There were several yellow growths on it that looked like sores. The creatures arm was fully raised. Before it could bring the arm down again, Leon quickly took aim and fired. He connected with one of the sores, and the creature staggered backwards. Its own arm fell down on the main body, pinning it to the floor. Acting quickly, Leon ran towards his fallen enemy. Reaching instinctively for his left shoulder, Leon felt half surprised to not find his knife there. Wasting no time, he pointed his gun at each of the sores in turn, hitting every one that he could before his gun clicked when he pulled the trigger.

"Damn," he muttered, annoyed by the waste of ammunition that his knife would have prevented. The creature was screaming on the floor at his feet. Leon quickly loaded another clip into his weapon and took aim, but didn't fire. The arm seemed to be dissolving and the inhuman screams from the pinned body were getting weaker. Within seconds the mutated man had withered to half his size, his skin leaking a tar-like liquid that smelled of blood and disease. Leon covered his nose with his arm, sickened by how strong the odour was. The creature's moans stopped entirely, telling Leon that it was indeed dead.

"Not as hard as I thought it would be," he said to no one in particular. He holstered his fully loaded weapon and turned to go back into the research lab, but was surprised to find Harding standing at the doorway, looking half shocked, half relieved.

"Y-You killed it," he stammered.

"They don't get much deader than that," Leon said, looking back over his shoulder at the almost non existent remains. "Listen, my plan hasn't changed, I still need to go find that lab. If this thing was just an experiment, there's no telling what else they might have thought up in there."

Harding nodded. Leon patted him on the shoulder, trying to be reassuring in a situation that he didn't think could possibly be any more dire. Leon turned away and began moving quickly down the corridor.

"D-Don't forget to turn right," Harding called after him.

Leon raised his hand in acknowledgement and kept moving, quickly but silently.

Harding watched Leon fade into the distance, his eyes still wide. When he couldn't see or hear Leon any longer, he turned and walked back into the research lab. He blinked. Fear was such an annoying emotion to convey. Reaching down towards his shoes, He pulled a small radio from his sock and clicked it on. The light on top blinked, letting him know that someone was listening.

"Kennedy is here," he said calmly, "I've sent him to the Hybrid lab."

The man looked at the computer Leon had been reading, the list of files still displayed on the screen. He raised the radio again.

"He will be dead within the hour."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

For minutes that felt like hours, Leon made his way forward through the seemingly endless corridor. The flickering lights above him would occasionally illuminate a pool of blood or a deep score in the metal wall, but there was never enough light for him to see everything around him. The stench of blood and decay hung in the air, mixing with the harsh smell of electrical fires and burnt plastic. Leon fought the urge to cover his nose and kept moving, gun raised, knowing that every second counted. Umbrella would soon learn that their facility had been overrun, if they hadn't already. Leon was certain that they would erase any evidence that could be used to prove what they were up to, which was why he had to find it.

Leon came to the split in the corridor that Harding had mentioned about after nearly five minutes. Harding had told him that Group One had gone down the right branch, and that his own group had gone down the left. Leon turned and looked down the corridor to his right. It looked much the same as the one he was in now; dark, bloody, and ultimately void of anything that could still be considered alive. A glance down the left corridor told him that it was no different that way either. He took a deep breath, remembering the Plagas infected man he had just killed. The way his arm had looked, with the bones being used as blades and the arm itself growing in size, made it seem as thought they were trying to create something like what had been done with Krauser. Leon thought back to fighting his old partner, how Krauser had raised his arm and shown its transformation to him. He remembered the arm swinging towards him, bones pushed through the skin and as sharp as any knife. He'd nearly been decapitated a number of times. Leon shuddered at the thought of what would happen if Umbrella got their hands on a weapon like that. He hoped that Luis' notes didn't contain any helpful instructions on how it was done.

Leon turned his attention back toward the corridor. It was time to go. He thought of trying to reach Hunnigan on his radio again, even it was only to hear her wish him luck. The solidarity of his mission was beginning to weigh on him. He shook his head. There was no time to be feeling sorry for himself, nor was there time to try a radio call that would probably fail. He reached into his inner jacket pocket, feeling the last clip that he had with him. Harding had given him two full clips and he'd used one to reload after killing the last hostile.

'Thirty-two shots,' he thought.

Not exactly what he'd call enough for what he was about to do, but it was all he had. Leon began to reach for his left shoulder again, about to make sure that his knife was in its sheath, but stopped himself. He smiled ruefully, wishing that he'd grabbed the knife out of his case before Trell and his men had taken it. Another thing he would have to make do without. Feeling as ready as he'd ever be, Leon took his first step down the right corridor, then paused.

"Good luck," he said quietly to himself.

Hearing a voice, even though it was his own, seemed to brace Leon for whatever he was about to encounter. He started moving again, hoping that he'd be able to find what he was looking for in time.

Doors lined the walls on either side of him as Leon moved cautiously in the direction that Harding had pointed him. Leon stopped and tried every door. Most were locked, and the ones that opened were only small offices. As he moved, he began counting the number of infected that he was potentially up against. There had been two hundred and thirteen passengers on the plane that had gone missing. He guessed that about thirty-five to forty scientists had been taken from the Tricell company. How many people worked in the facility itself he had no idea, but he imagined that worst case scenario was around a hundred staff members. There had to have been armed guards to control the prisoners taken from the plane, and that would require at least thirty guards. The passenger plus the scientists plus the staff plus the guards and security personnel...

"Three hundred and eighty-three possible hostiles," Leon muttered under his breath, "A hell of a lot."

Thirty-two perfectly placed bullets wouldn't even take out a tenth of that number, and seeing as he'd used almost half a clip on a single enemy earlier, the odds weren't exactly on his side. Then again, if most of them were T-Virus zombies there was a chance that he could go by completely undetected. And the Plaga experiment that he'd fought already hadn't been particularly challenging. If all the enemies were like that...

Leon was jerked away from his thoughts by his foot coming into contact with something on the ground. He stumbled but quickly regained his balance and turned to see what it was that had tripped him. He saw the outline of a body through the darkness. He walked towards the body and knelt down next to it, waiting for the lights to flicker again and give him a glimpse of what had happened to the victim. When the flicker of light came, Leon saw the cause of death instantly. The man's jugular had been cut. The wound was clean, as though done with precision, and the cut was ony a few inches long. It had to have been done by a person. But something didn't feel right.

Leon's thoughts went back to the first body he'd found in the facility. That man's throat had been slashed also, but the cut had almost taken off the man's head. That wasn't what had disturbed Leon though. It was the fingerprints that he'd seen around the wound on that body.

Leon turned his attention away from the past and back to the body on the floor in front of him. Holding his breath, he waited for another flash of light. When it came, he squinted down at the wound in the man's neck. The blood around the cut was smudged, as though someone had been pulling the skin apart to look inside. Leon pushed himself back to his feet, his eyes never leaving the corpse. He had no idea what to make of what he was seeing. Two people killed in the same fashion, and both had been examined after the fact. Leon doubted very much that someone running for their lives would have stopped and checked to see how these two men had died. So who was leaving the prints? Or what?

Leon turned to begin moving again. Whatever was going on with these bodies wasn't what he was looking into right now. He had to find that lab. Harding had only told him which way to turn, but he couldn't have known how far it was to the lab. It was impossible for Leon to guess how big the facility was, having only seen a small amount of the island.

"Guess I'll get there when I get there."

He began moving again, questions still burning in his mind. He did his best to ignore them and focus on the task at hand, but what he came upon next made that impossible. He hadn't been moving for more than two minutes when he came upon three bodies, all wearing white lab coats.

"What the hell?"

The words came out unbidden. Leon stood motionless, staring at the scene. After a few seconds, his curiosity won out against his apprehension. As he moved towards the bodies, is foot sent something clattering across the floor. Leon knelt down and felt around for the object, one hand searching the cold metal floor, the other still holding his gun at the ready. His hand brushed over something cylindrical. He grinned as his hand closed around the item. Finally, a flashlight.

Suddenly he felt a chill go down his spine and the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He was being watched. Leon got slowly to his feet, weighing his options. If he turned around and was too slow pulling the trigger, he could be killed by whatever was behind him. On the other hand, if he tried to make a break for it and run forward, he had no idea what he could be running in to. Leon held the flashlight tightly in one hand, his gun in the other. He had no way of knowing whether what was behind him was out to kill him or not, but he couldn't take any chances.

Spinning quickly, he clicked on the flashlight while shooting three shots at random. A scream echoed down the corridor. It was high pitched, and almost sounded like a hiss. Leon saw a shadow dart out of the flashlight's beam, towards the wall to his left. There was a sound like metal crunching. Leon moved the flashlight towards the wall, trying tho catch another glimpse of whatever he'd hit with the random shots, but it wasn't there. A broken vent, roughly three feet across and two high, was all he saw. Moving slowly towards it, Leon kept both his gun and the flashlight aimed at the destroyed vent. There was something shining on the shredded edges of metal around the vent. He touched it with two fingers and held them to the light. It was definitely blood.

"Y-you hit it?"

Leon snapped his head around so fast that he pulled a muscle. He pointed the flashlight at the three bodies. Holding his gun out in front of him, he tried not to wince from the pain in his neck. One of the bodies was moving, propping itself up on an elbow. Leon shone the light at it's face. It was a woman, probably around his age, with dark hair. She had a cut to the right of her throat and the blood from it had stained the right shoulder of her white lab coat. There was nowhere near as much blood on her as there was on the other two bodies, one of which was a man, the other another woman. Leon continued to shine the light at the woman until she spoke again.

"Would you mind pointing that somewhere else? It's been pretty dark here for quite a while, the light hurts."

Leon stared at her for a moment, then clicked the light off. He didn't want to lose the only light he had because of battery life.

"Why are you alive?" he asked her.

The question surprised him a little. He had meant to ask who she was, but after seeing the other two bodies, the words had just slipped out. She looked at him for a moment before answering. Clearly she had thought the question to be odd too. Then she shrugged.

"It missed," she said simply.

"Missed?"

"I assume it's because I was falling when it attacked me."

"When what attacked-"

"I guess it just figured it had gotten me. It's become so adept at killing, after all."

"Wait, wait," Leon said, holding up a hand, "What is "it"? Why are you here?"

She turned to him. He coud barely see her eyes through the dim, flickering lights, but he could see the fear in them. She wasn't stammering like Harding had been, but the terror was there. She inhaled deeply.

"I can't really explain," she said quietly, her eyes falling to the floor.

"Try," Leon said firmly.

The woman raised her head again and met his gaze.

"Fine," she said, "I'll try."

Leon leaned against the wall behind him.

"Let's start with why you're here. Are you one of the Tricell staff they brought in?"

"No, I've been here a good amount longer than they have."

Leon felt a surge of anger rush through him.

"So you work for Umbrella?"

"I...not exactly," she said, looking away.

Leon's grip on his gun tightened. He needed answers, not evasions. He tried not to let his frustration show when he spoke.

"Listen, maybe we should start with your name and move forward from there."

The woman looked up again. After looking a t Leon for a few seconds, she nodded slowly.

"My name's Adalyn."

Leon waited for a last name. When it didn't come. he decided to wait. She clearly didn't know or trust him yet, so he didn't want to push her. He needed her to see him as an ally.

"Alright. I'm Leon," he said, giving a small smile.

She seemed to relax somewhat. Leon tried asking again.

"So, Adalyn," he said, trying not to sound like he was angry or accusing, "If you didn't come here with the Tricell group, and you don't work for Umbrella, Then what are you doing here?"

Adalyn looked uncomfortable. Leon wasn't sure she would answer. He opened his mouth to encourage her, but she spoke before he could say anything.

"They approached me a few months ago, offering me a large sum of money if I would work for them."

"Why did they want you."

"They had somehow found out that I'd been doing research on the T-Virus," she explained, "Mainly how it affects the cells."

"I see. And you accepted their proposal."

Adalyn shook her head.

"I asked them why they wanted me to work for them," she said, "They told me it was to help them with a new project."

"What project?"

"They wouldn't say, so I refused their offer."

"And they left?"

"For a while. Then they came back, offering me more money. I refused again."

Leon didn't like where this was going. Umbrella always had ways of getting what they wanted.

"The third time they approached me," Adalyn said, "They informed me that they had kidnapped my sister."

Tears sprang into her eyes as the words left her mouth. Leon wished he could give her time to compose herself, but there was none to spare.

"So you were forced to come her, to protect your sister?"

She nodded, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her lab coat. Leon didn't have to ask her to continue.

"When they brought me here, they took me directly to a lab. I was to begin researching how much T-Virus a body could absorb without rejecting it."

Leon felt a wave of pity and disgust fall on him. The lengths Umbrella would go to...

"What I did was never enough for them, so I began combining the T-Virus with other chemicals. Trying to find a way to make them satisfied enough to release my sister."

She breathed deeply, as if bracing herself for what she was about to say. Leon listened, hardly breathing himself.

"After almost three months of research and experimentation, I managed to create a T-Virus infected body unlike any that had been seen before. The combination of chemicals made it significantly faster and stronger, but there was a problem. When infected, the subjects would never last more than a day."

"The subjects? You didn't use-"

"They were corpses. Not live people. As I said, the new Virus I'd created was too strenuous on the cells. The bodies would literally dissolve after about nineteen to twenty-two hours."

"So they didn't release your sister," Leon said.

Adalyn shook her head again, this time blinking back the tears that threatened to fall.

"No. They told me to work on it and perfect it. I tried everything I could think of, but nothing changed. After a week with no luck, a woman named Ada Wong showed up at the facility."

Leon let out the breath he'd been holding. Everything that was happening seemed to circle around Ada. He nodded at Adalyn, letting her know that he was still listening. She continued.

"I'm not entirely sure what she spoke with the men in charge about, but soon after, another team of scientists was brought to the lab where I was conducting the experiments. This was the Tricell group that you mentioned earlier," she added, "They had been studying notes on something called Plagas for several days before they were brought to my lab. When they came, they brough the Plagas parasites with them. And that was the beginning of the H-1-1 experiment. The Hybrid Project."

"Shit," whispered Leon, "You brought the two together?"

Adalyn's eyes were wide as she nodded.

"How? How did they use the sample so effectively? How were they able to produce Plagas in under three days?"

"I'm not clear on all the details, but apparently the notes of one Luis Sera made everything almost too easy, according to one of the Tricell scientists."

'God damn it, Luis,' Leon thought. "What happened next?"

"They informed me that Plagas had extraordinary regenerative abilities, which they use to keep their hosts alive. We began injecting Plagas eggs into different parts of the Virus-infected body. because of how fast the body degenerated, we put one Plaga in each limb, one in it's back, and one in the torso."

"Let me get this straight, there are six Plagas in a single body that's already infected with a strain of T-Virus that makes it extremely strong?"

Adalyn nodded again.

Leon closed his eyes. He didn't want to ask, but he had to.

"Then what happened?"

Adalyn didn't answer him. Leon opened his eyes to see her practically shaking with fear. He moved forward and put his arms around her.

"It's alright," he said, trying to sound calmer than he felt, "You were only trying to help your sister. I can deal with this, I just need to know every detail of what I'm up against."

Adalyn stopped shaking. Leon let her go and she stepped back and nodded.

"Th-The rest of what happened is kind of a blur," she choked, "But I can show you."

"How?"

"Everything that happened in the lab was recorded. All the video files are on my computer."

"And the computer is in the lab?"

"Yeah."

Leon took her by the arm.

"Are you sure that you're able to go back there?"

Adalyn seemed to freeze for a second, then answered.

"Yes, this needs to be done."

Leon nodded once.

"How far is the lab?"

"Not far, barely a minute away."

Leon readied his gun.

"Stay close," he said, "and keep quiet."

They began moving towards the lab, both unable to shake the feeling that they were still being watched.


End file.
